


Seeing Blind

by nukacolass



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Natasha Romanov, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Twilight Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Brock & Bucky friendship, Bucky Barnes & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, High School, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nerd Bucky Barnes, Omega Bucky Barnes, Omega Darcy Lewis, Omega Discrimination, Omega politics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Nerd Bucky Barnes, Shy Bucky Barnes, Soulmates, Tags May Change, Vampire Natasha Romanov, Vampire Steve Rogers, Werewolf Clint Barton, bucky is peggy's grandson (even though he calls her aunt peggy), vampires don't sparkle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nukacolass/pseuds/nukacolass
Summary: "Auntie," Bucky's voice is a near-whine, "you didn't tell me the world's cutest dog is here."The old man chuckles at the boy's words, but Bucky pays no mind as he and the dog make a beeline for each other and meet in the middle of the room. "Hello," he says in his best 'I'm talking to a dog' voice, "who are you?""That's Clint," the man says, while continuing to laugh.





	1. brooklyn, washington

**Author's Note:**

> title from the niall horan/maren morris song of the same name. 
> 
> twilight is my guilty pleasure, sorry. literally no one asked for this, but it was all i could think about during my ap lit timed write. this takes place in like, 2015. bucky is seventeen, about one-two months shy of his eighteenth birthday, at the start of this, but i'm not gonna tag it.
> 
> borrowed some lore from multiple tv shows/movies/wikia. HEAVILY follows plot of twilight with some spins of my own. 
> 
> WHY ARE ALL MY FICS A/B/O? also, i don't really know much about football, but the cardinals are my team :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am i starting ANOTHER work in progress lmao!

"I don't really get the whole _finsta_ thing," his sister says when she spots him in the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport where he has just descended the stairs. He hasn't seen her in three years, but they still look pretty similar, not that it's any shock to Bucky. They are twins after all. "Like, why do you need two Instagram accounts?" 

 

He loves that this is her opening line, loves that she doesn't deliberately try to make him cry ridiculous happy tears. He yanks her into a hug. "I missed you and your dumb questions, Bex." 

 

Becca has changed a little in the past three years. She's a little taller, but not as tall as Bucky's own six foot - he had shot up the summer before. Her wavy dark brown hair, which had been down to her bellybutton the last time he saw her in person, is now styled in a long bob with caramel-tone accents. She wears makeup, and he briefly thinks of how grownup that is considering she had been a dorky fourteen year old, and then he berates himself for thinking like an asshole.

 

He compliments her anyways, "that lipstick is pretty, suits you."

 

It is pretty, he's not going go lie to her. No, he loves her far too much to lie. The nude pink leaves a gloss that makes her eyes sparkle, and they sparkle even more when he comments on it, her pink lips lifting into a smile.

 

"Thanks, Buck," she takes one of his shoulder bags, to which he doesn't argue. His shoulder had been aching for the past several minutes as he was looking for her. "You look good too. A little dorky, maybe, but you got some muscle, dude!" With this, she pushes his bicep with her closed fist and damn, he might even bruise from the strength.

 

He rolls his eyes. He isn't that muscular, just a sort of athletic lean, and no one ever gets the chance to comment on it because his body is always hidden by flannels and sweaters. He had bulked up after he joined JROTC at his old school. Brooklyn High doesn't have any form of ROTC, Becca had said, but he hasn't been planning on joining again anyhow, not with his dad already in so much danger overseas. He can't chance joining the Army after senior year, can't leave Becca by herself. 

 

He's considering joining football instead. 

 

They make it to Sharon's car, borrowed by Becca after she dropped Sharon off for her hospital shift, and Aunt Peggy couldn't pick him up due to some work complications as she was on-call and had been pulled into a last minute surgery. They load Bucky's two suitcases and his duffel in the back - the rest of his things had been sent a few weeks before, -  taking turns playfully shoving at each other. When she turns on the car, the radio comes to life, startling Bucky so much that he honest-to-god _shrieks_. His sister cackles, turning the radio down to a less drum-shattering volume, and allows him to fiddle with the tuner. 

 

He gives up after several minutes on the road, the stations having ranged from static to new country (gross, he would _much_ rather listen to country from pre-2010) to some irritating pop music. He syncs his phone's Bluetooth to the car's and clicks his favorite Spotify playlist, labeled " _country bops_." 

 

A little over three hours later, they pass the Brooklyn welcome sign, and Bucky lets out a loud laugh. "Honestly, I kind of wish this was New York's Brooklyn, I've always wanted to go. I hear they have good pizza." 

 

She laughs too, but answers with something that has him wondering what he forgot to tell her. "So," she drags out the word. "How come you didn't tell me, or _Aunt Peggy_? I know how close you two are."

 

He turns his head away from the window to look at her, "tell you what?" 

 

The silence hangs thick in the air between them while she gathers her thoughts. 

 

"Bucky," she sighs, then, as her eyes flick down to the cuff on his wrist as she pulls into a long gravel driveway, "you got your Soul Mark. That means you presented." 

 

"I know what it means, Bex." 

 

She pulls to a stop in front of his new home, their home. "You're an Omega, right?" 

 

"Yes," he looks out the window again, his right hand absentmindedly rubbing at the cuff over his Mark on his left wrist. He doesn't want to look at it, let alone think or talk about it. "So what?" 

 

Becca shifts in her seat, "let's see it then." 

 

"See what?" He asks dumbly. 

 

Instead of answering, she waits until they've stopped near the front door before she snatches his hand with her own and tries to pull at the cuff. He sees his motorcycle parked there, covered by a black tarp. Sharon brought it home with her when she had driven to Indiana to pick up his things.

 

Bucky yanks his hand back, cradling it against his chest. "What the hell, Bex?!"

 

She frowns, "I showed you mine when I got it." Then, with a knowing smile, "what? Are they super old? Young? Are you _cradle robbing,_ Bucky?" 

 

He sighs, icy blue eyes pointed downward as he caves. "You can't tell Aunt Peggy," he says as he unclasps the cuff, "or Sharon." He lets her grab his wrist again, lifting it to her face before she gasps. 

 

Rebecca gasps because in the spidery handwriting belonging to his soulmate,  ** _JULY 4, 1918_** stands out on his pale skin, revealing his soulmate's ancient age, and the means to identify them. _As if they were still alive_ , Bucky reminds himself bitterly. 

 

"Oh, Bucky," her look of compassion is clearly meant to make him feel better, but he only feels worse. Cringing, he unbuckles his seat belt.

 

"It doesn't matter," he mutters, slapping the cuff back on. "Soulmates are ridiculous, anyways," the lie is obvious. Bucky knows that she remembers his gushing about Soul Marks as a child. "I'm going inside." 

 

The house - mansion, more like - is lovely, and he's bitter that no one mentioned that Aunt Peggy was _loaded_. It's a gorgeous cabin style home with both wood and stone accents. It's a two story, and the backyard leads into the woods. A little spooky, Bucky won't lie, but he is quickly distracted by the interior of the house as he enters. Inside is even more beautiful. There's wooden beams on the vaulted ceiling, and stone wall accents - and a gorgeous stone fireplace. 

 

He can't wait to use the kitchen, either, with all of its modernized appliances, and the sheer size of it has his stomach fluttering with excitement.

 

His bedroom is upstairs on the opposite end of the hall to Aunt Peggy's master bedroom. Becca and Sharon both have rooms downstairs because one, his sister is too lazy to use the stairs every single day, and two, Sharon likes to be close to the ground. Heights aren't her thing, and they never have been. 

 

Bucky's room is so huge that he thinks he's walked into Peggy's by accident, just for a moment. The girls went full out when they were preparing it. The walls have the same wood as downstairs, and the ceiling is vaulted with the same wooden beam accents as downstairs. There's a reading nook across the room that could double as a sleeping nook for future friends, a giant TV on the wall with his Xbox already set up (thank whatever supreme being for _that_ ), and his frankly huge bathroom is attached to his room by a frosted glass door with a wood frame that nearly blends into the wall. His bed is a _king sized_ one, shocking him in more ways than one as he face plants into the marshmallow-like mattress. Becca has certainly remembered his fondness for memory foam.

 

He takes a shower in his new bathroom - the shower is the same frosted glass as the door, but it forms a large square in the corner of the room - and takes a little extra time to satisfy the frequent hormonal needs of a teenage boy before pulling on some old sweatpants before he dives back onto the bed. He sleeps from eleven in the morning, straight into the early evening hours. 

 

He blinks blearily at a particular dark spot of wood on the beam of the ceiling as he tries to recall what had woken him up. Giggling starts up again at his left, and he turns his head to look at his now open bedroom door. Becca and Sharon are standing there. His sister's phone is out and she is clearly taking a video of him. He glares at the concept of being woken up, and they giggle again as he registers the sticky feeling on his face before they run off down the hall.

 

He swipes a hand over his cheek, his palm coming back tacky, and he darts after the duo, stumbling out of his bed and nearly falling as his legs get tangled in the blankets.

 

"What the fuck, Bex?!" He hollers as he clambers down the stairs, still rubbing at the honey and whipped cream on his face. Peggy tuts at him from the kitchen, her only slightly greying brown hair pulled into a ponytail from her day at work. She's still dressed in her scrubs, so she must have gotten home within the past hour and immediately began cooking.

 

"We have a guest, Bucky," she says before pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so happy you're here," she pinches his non-sticky cheek with a motherly smile. He can hear the unsaid _you're too skinny_ , even though he really isn't. "Go wash up, now, dinner is almost ready."

 

Aunt Peggy isn't really his _aunt_ , but she refuses to be called anyone's grandmother until she hits _at least_  sixty. She's currently fifty-eight. She had been young when Winifred was born, only twenty four, and Winifred had been even younger - only eighteen - when she had the twins. Peggy had Sharon later in life, when she was in her late thirties and had finally settled down with Bucky's grandfather. Grandpa Carter died two years ago, but there isn't a day that goes by that Bucky doesn't think about him. 

 

No one thinks about his mother, however. Winifred hasn't been seen or heard from since he and Rebecca were three.

 

Bucky grumbles, irritated as he walks back up the stairs and makes a beeline for his bathroom to wash the mess off of his face.

 

After scrubbing at his face, and _his hair_ , for several minutes, he finally deems his face food product free and ambles back downstairs. Everyone has gathered in the massive living room, a Redskins vs. Cardinals game giving them some background noise to their own chatter. Everyone, meaning one stranger - an old man Bucky doesn't recognize, his Aunt Peggy, Sharon and Becca. Oh, and what is quite possibly a _wolfdog_.

 

A big, fluffy ball of gold sits at the feet of the man he doesn't know, and it perks up when Bucky enters the room. 

 

"Auntie," Bucky's voice is a near-whine, "you didn't tell me the world's cutest dog is here." 

 

The man chuckles at the boy's words, but Bucky pays no mind as he and the dog make a beeline for each other and meet in the middle of the room. "Hello," he says in his best _I'm talking to a dog_ voice, "who are you?" 

 

"That's Clint," the man says, while continuing to chuckle. It reminds the teen of his grandfather, almost as though the man is still there, telling his old war stories. Bucky must have missed the end of a good joke, or a not so good one, given how only the man is laughing. 

 

"Hello, Clint," he gushes, smiling at the dog as he wags his tail. Bucky scratches between the dog's ears, laughing as the dog licks at his cheek, which must clearly still smell of honey and cream.

 

"Bucky," Peggy sighs with a smile. "This is Doctor Abraham Erskine, the town's most esteemed scientist, and the Chief of Surgery at the hospital. He is also one of my best friends." 

 

"Hi." Bucky greets offhandedly, still pampering the dog, not at all wondering how or why such a small town could have an _esteemed scientist_. "Nice to meet you," he tries to make it sound like he isn't talking to the dog, but he most certainly is. 

 

" _James_." Peggy says, more tired than exasperated as she plates him some food from the spread of appetizers on the coffee table. There's several honey-barbeque wings, and some homemade mozzarella sticks which are singing Bucky's name.

 

The teen rises up from his knees, "sorry," he says, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck with his left hand. His aunt's eye catches on the cuff, and she freezes. 

 

"Oh," she falters, her arm halfway stretched out to hand over the plate as she tilts her head up to scent the air. "You. . ?" 

 

She doesn't need to finish, he knows what she's asking. "Yeah," his eyes dart to their guests for a moment, knowing he can't deny it with the obvious evidence. "I presented two weeks ago. Omega," he concludes with a shrug. 

 

Aunt Peggy blinks, astonished for a moment by his dismissive tone before she smiles. "That's lovely, dear, congratulations." 

 

He shares a mild look with Becca, who had clearly been about to out him in front of a bunch of strangers, before he smiles at his aunt and accepts the plate she hands him. 

 

"Thanks, Auntie." 

 

Two hours later, the football game has long since ended, though no one was really watching save for Bucky and _the dog_ , the sun has set, and Peggy's guests have left. Bucky waits patiently on the couch, watching the post-game talk show - about the low possibility of the Cardinals getting a new quarterback, he scoffs - as he waits to get his revenge. Finally, Becca gets up from the couch to shower in lieu of school the next day. He pulls her iced tea to him, and a salt shaker. 

 

He shakes a few dashes into the glass, then pushes it back, waiting for his sister to return. 

 

He tires of waiting after five minutes, grabbing his own tea and going back up the stairs to his bedroom. He totters between the top three steps, but ultimately skips two and lands somewhat gracefully in the hallway. Shutting his door as quietly as he can without waking Peggy, he takes another look around for his TV remote. He grabs both from the nightstand by his bed and opens up Netflix. 

Two and a half episodes of _Criminal Minds_ later, he's fast asleep. 


	2. brooklyn high school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a long and stressful first day of school, and he's pretty sure his history partner is a complete tool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bear with me, darcy's characterization is probably super duper off because I've never written her before? there's also some mentions of marvel movies, but it's all different actors. 
> 
> i tried to make this chapter a bit long, but then i wanted to post it so ??? i'll be getting more into the creature&soulmate aspects pretty soon. i hope nothing feels too forced! 
> 
> warnings at end.

The following morning is that of a dreadful Monday, though the cloudy weather is something Bucky loves in particular. Clouds and rain have always been something of a comfort to him, even if the occasional boom of thunder spooked him when caught unawares. Rebecca finds him sitting at the island bar, already dressed for school and doing little half spins in his stool as he shovels spoonfuls of Frosted Flakes into his mouth. He smiles at her through a heavy mouthful, to which she flicks his nose. 

 

"You chew like a cow," she says, and he nearly spits his food laughing. Milk dribbles down his chin. "Yuck, Bucky. You're so gross," she pours herself a bowl, but he continues laughing as he stuffs his face with the last of his cereal. 

 

"I'm leaving early," he says. It sounds more like "'m leaf'n e'ry" though the flakes of cereal, and Becca's nose scrunches up in disgust.

 

She shoves him in the direction of the key rack, "good, please get out before I vomit." 

 

He catches a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror, checking to make sure he'll make a good first impression on his teachers and peers. He's opted to wear black skinny jeans, a well-worn, grey NASA hoodie, and, of course, his - newly dubbed by Bex - hot nerd glasses. He swipes his keys from the rack and takes the porch steps two at a time with an enthusiastic smile. 

 

His bike, a '95 _Harley Davidson_ _Road King_ inherited from his father, still purrs like a dream, and he catches the eye of nearly every student in the parking lot. There aren't many, of course, because it's cold as balls and school still had roughly thirty minutes before the bell would ring. He get's stares of bewilderment from a few lingering students, and a few Beta girls - and two fellow Omega boys who stick out as obvious freshmen- giggle in his direction before they catch his own Omega scent, which results in several more bewildered gazes. 

 

It isn't the fact the he's an Omega with a badass mode of transportation, but rather the fact that he's an Omega with an athletic - Alpha, even if it would be considered lean muscle - build, and maybe a few of them don't think Omegas should drive something so dangerous. Sharon and Becca certainly have their reservations, but his dad and Peggy think it to be freeing, and therefore a positive aspect of Bucky's life.

 

They might be a smidgen biased, as they are both avid motorcycle lovers.

 

And, perhaps, some of the looks may have changed after he lifts his visor, removes his glasses to take off his helmet only to put on his _dorky glasses_ back on. 

 

He breezes into the office, smiling at one of the women sitting there as he approaches her. "Hi," he digs in his back pocket to pull out his wallet and photo ID. "I'm B-." 

 

"Barnes?" The woman, her name tag reads Karen, interrupts. He nods, and she mumbles the name a few times under her breath as she digs through the file cabinet to her right. "Ah, here we are. James B. Barnes, junior. . . Any relation to Rebecca Barnes?" She asks, though she sounds uninterested as she prints something, presumably his schedule. 

 

"We're twins," he nods. "I lived with my dad in-."

 

She interrupts him again, "alright, here's your schedule. One of our staff will call you down later in the week to get your student ID taken care of," Karen pauses, thinking. "Oh! And I would advise putting some money towards some scent blockers as our school population is roughly eighty-percent Alpha."

 

Karen is an Alpha herself, Bucky can tell, and he bristles at the thought of his designation being such an issue. Omega's rights have been a long term issue, but in 2012, a law was passed that made Blockers optional, rather than required for Omegas in school. 

 

"It's not required though," he asks, just to double check, "right?" 

 

Karen gives him a long, contemplative (read: judging) look. "No," she says, something she doesn't sound too happy about. "They are not." 

 

"Right. . . well," he trails off, already taking a step backwards to the door, papers clutched in his left hand as he uses the right one to shift his backpack higher on his shoulder. "Thanks." 

 

He's looking over his schedule as he slowly walks across the office. Everything looks alright except. . . "Ma'am?" He turns on his heel, "there's an issue with my schedule." 

 

Karen's crimson red acrylics clack against her keyboard, and she barely acknowledges him as her dark eyes flit over the computer screen in front of her. "Hm?" 

 

"It says I'm going to be in general Statistics, but I took AP statistics my sophomore year, and I put in a request for AP calc since I was taking it in Indiana. In fact," he frowns as he reads further down the class list, "none of my classes are listed as AP?" 

 

She pauses her typing to look through his file again, mumbling under her breath some more. "Ah, it says here that your junior year transcripts are, unfortunately, not compatible with our school's requirements. Advanced Placement classes aren't available to Omegas in the state of Washington." This was news to Bucky, and he felt tears prick at his eyes as she continued, "your AP classes will have to be taken as general ones." 

 

He knows it won't be helpful to argue, not with an Alpha like her, and especially not when Washington is one of the states that haven't quite gotten with modern times. He turns once again, but ultimately drops his keys and the papers Karen had printed out for him as he bumps into someone. 

 

He kneels down to gather his littered papers and keys, once again bumping into the person. 

 

"Oh jeez," she says, grabbing her glasses, which had been knocked off her face when it met Bucky's shoulder. "I'm sorry, dude. . . awe, man! I totally just body checked the new kid, huh?  

 

"It's my fault," he rises to his feet, adjusting the strap of his backpack before smiling. "Great first impression," he adds with a grin. 

 

She narrows her eyes, but smiles back. She's an Omega, like him, but he only knows from the Blocker peaking out above her scarf. Her pale skin is pink around it - irritated, most likely. "I'm Darcy Lewis," she sticks out a fuzzy-gloved hand, "James, right? Becca's brother?" 

 

"Yeah, I-, uh. I go by Bucky," he shakes her hand. "Everyone knows Bex around here." He chuckles awkwardly, feeling more than a little out of place. He can feel Karen's scrutinizing eye, and evidently so does Darcy, because she quickly steers him out of the office by linking their arms together and tugging him along. 

 

"I'll give you a tour," she snatches his schedule from his hands as they continue down the hall and away from Karen's blatant staring. "Oh, nice, we have stats and English together. Oooh," she tosses him a grin, "you have forensics with my best friend, Jane. She's great. . . and Russian with my girlfriend, Natasha, and I think," she pauses, glancing up as they approach the end of the hallway, then she tugs him to the left. "Yeah, I think you have U.S. history with Nat's brothers, Steve and Clint, which is in this room: B112." 

 

Bucky blinks as they come to their first stop, his history class and first period of the day. Only one thing has really registered with him in the past few minutes of their walk: Darcy is talkative. A real Chatty Cathy, and most definitely someone he will get along with, despite his shy disposition.

 

"Did anyone explain the schedule to you?" She asks, holding the door for him as they enter the room. The teacher is at his desk, speaking with someone over the phone about his weekend, barely sparing a glance at the two students, even as Darcy greets him with a "hey, Mr. Coulson."

 

"Uh," he shrugs his bag off his shoulder, letting it land on the desk. "No, I wasn't really comfortable with the office lady, honestly. I was gonna ask Bex." 

 

Darcy flicks a dark curl away from her face, "no need, I'll tell you." She has taken the desk next to him, as each desk is one half of a pair, both of which are at the far left side of the room by the windows, in the first and second column of desks. "There's A days, like today, and B days, which will be tomorrow and Thursday this week." Bucky nods to show his understanding. "A days are even-numbered classes: second, fourth and sixth period, and the odds are on Bs." 

 

Bucky waits for her to continue, but she shrugs, followed by the staccato buzz of her phone. "That's really it. . . shoot! Nat's here early, I'll find you at lunch, Bucky!" She's already halfway out the door, and he waves his goodbye. 

 

At least he'll be an A student, he thinks bitterly as he looks over his schedule. He had been looking forward to continuing with his classes, onces that actually _challenged_ him, but now that was gone. He'll be lucky to get a chance for football tryouts at this rate, let alone actually make the team. 

 

Jesus, Brock is going to have a field day, Bucky thinks as he shoots a text to his best friend. 

 

**ME - 7:43 AM**

_dude, this school is actual ass. they wont let me take ap classes cause im an omega._

**BROCK - 7:44 AM**

_what the fuck. you're joking, right?_

**ME - 7:46 AM**

_no. the office lady even told me i should get blockers bc the majority of the school are alphas_. 

**BROCK - 7:50 AM**

_you need me to come down there and kick some alpha ass, just call me, alright? i'll be there._

**BROCK - 7:51 AM**

_i'll text you in a bit, alex wants to talk, i'll lyk how it goes._

**ME - 7:53 AM**

_don't let him off the hook too easy. we both know he fucked up._

 

Alex is Brock's on-again-off-again boyfriend. They've been dancing around each other since the second quarter of this school year. Brock's tough disposition, a complete opposite to the expectations of an Omega, had somehow both completely entranced and totally pissed off the older Alpha. Alexander Pierce is the type of Alpha who wholeheartedly believes in the old timey gender roles, and more often than not, he's trying to impose those roles upon Brock. 

 

So, _naturally_ , Bucky hates the guy's guts, and hopes he burns in the fiery depths of Hell. 

 

The first bell of the day rings on time at 7:55, and students begin to file into the room. All the seats are filled except one beside Bucky, by the second bell's ringing. Coulson doesn't get up from his desk, though he had hung up the phone a few minutes before, and he didn't even look up until a student comes in late. 

 

"Mr. Rogers," the teacher drones, sounding decidedly unsurprised as his eyes flick between the guy and his computer screen. "Nice of you to join us." 

 

Rogers stops short, running a large hand through golden blonde hair. "Heh-, Hey, Mr. Coulson. . ." He books it across the room to the empty desk beside Bucky, not sparing even the smallest of smiles. 

 

Coulson says nothing more, and most of the students chat with their friends. Rogers, because Bucky still hasn't heard his first name, pivots in his seat to face a guy sitting behind them. He has sandy blond hair with tips that curl around a hearing aid in his left ear, eyes hidden by sunglasses - pretentious much? Bucky thinks briefly, - and a torso that is swallowed by a giant purple hoodie. The two whisper under their breath, a conversation that must be difficult to hear, because Bucky can't hear it and he's sitting right next to them. 

 

The air conditioning kicks on, sending a chill down Bucky's spine as he spots the vent directly above him. Rogers stiffens next to him, and his purple clad friend hisses something under his breath. 

 

"May I be excused, sir?" Rogers asks suddenly, and then Bucky gets it. A deep inhale as he yawns allows him to scent the air, and his nostrils flare from the scent of the Alpha next to him. 

 

"No, Steve," Coulson finally rises from his seat. "I think you can spare the last forty minutes of class. . . Ah, welcome back, class. I hope you all enjoyed that three day weekend. Say hello to your semester partners. Sorry it took so long, but I wanted to finish up the last unit before we made any changes." 

 

The class lets out a collective groan, though there are a few students who have chosen a seat by a friend and don't mind this fact. Bucky, however, is annoyed. He's stuck with a jerk Alpha for the rest of the year. 

 

Steve does endure those forty minutes, sitting damn near completely stiff beside Bucky. The brunet can literally smell the tension radiating off the other boy. As their teacher proceeds to introduce their first major semester grade. It happens that Bucky has enrolled just in time, apparently. Coulson says their partners are not optional, he shoots a knowing look at Steve and Purple Sweater, and that their semester seat partners will also be project partners. 

 

"I know, I know," Mr. Coulson says after another collective groan, "but the district is really cracking down on getting teens to socialize, or whatever," his actual words, "so this is how we're implementing it. Expect this from all of your classes." 

 

When the bell rings, the blond Alpha all but slams a small, ripped piece of notebook paper onto Bucky's desk before he practically flies out the door, Purple Sweater right behind him with a look of worry. 

 

On the paper is Steve's number, with " _text me about the project_ ," written in a vaguely familiar scrawl. 

 

His second hour is Russian, with Ms. Sellars, a petite Beta woman with shoulder length, blonde hair who greets him with a bright smile. 

 

"привет," she smiles, motioning for him to stand by her desk. "Our new student, I presume?" She goes on to explain that she too is new to the school, however she has been teaching since the beginning of the year. "James?" 

 

"Bucky," he corrects, then at her confused look, he elaborates. "It's from my middle name." 

 

"Ah!" She nods, smiling that bright smile again, and he just knows he's going to have a good time in this class. "Thank you for telling me," she scribbles a reminder onto her class roster. "Now, we're right in the middle of a project, unfortunately: we started right before winter break," she pauses to greet a few students. "Everyone has been grouped into pairs, but I'm going to have you join. . ." She runs her pen up and down her list of pairs, "hmm, Natasha and Bruce, I think will be a good fit." 

 

A redhaired Alpha enters the room, a curly haired brunet boy, a Beta, on her arm, and Ms. Sellars perks up even more. "Ah, Natasha, Bruce!" Instead of taking a seat, they approach Bucky and the teacher. "This is Bucky," he smiles awkwardly, one that matches Bruce's, "he'll be joining your group for the remainder of the project." 

 

Natasha and Bruce's friendship reminds him heavily of his and Brocks, and his stomach clenches with nostalgia. 

 

Natasha leads them to a group of tables in the back corner of the room, and she immediately holds her hand out, willing Bucky to hand over his phone. He types his passcode in and passes it over with a raised brow. Ten seconds later, her phone buzzes with an incoming text, and she hands his back over. 

 

"There, you've been added to the project group chat." This prompts Bruce to check his own phone, fumbling as he fishes it out of his pocket and Bucky thinks he's adding the Omega to his contacts. "We'll catch you up as much as we can during class, but the group texts will come in handy for a lot of it, honestly. Our project is pretty much done, so we don't have much for you to work on."

 

There is a pause of about ten minutes where Ms Sellars explains their plans for the day, "We'll be continuing our projects, don't be afraid to ask me, or any of your classmates, for help, have fun!" 

 

Natasha has launched into explaining their project only seconds later. Before the break, the class had been given a list of Russian works - literature, art and the like. Each group had picked a piece, and had to complete several tasks. Research on the authors, how the piece was influential to both Russian culture and their own lives, and another task of their choice. Natasha and Bruce have chosen to bring in two different, but very popular, Russian foods: Pelmeni and Borscht.

 

"My great-grandmother's recipes," Natasha says with a grin. "Best damn things I've ever eaten." 

 

Lunch comes, and Bucky finds himself sitting with Darcy, much like she had promised. The female Omega is squeezed between Natasha and Bruce to his left, and Becca has situated herself on Bucky's right side. He learns fairly quick that Natasha and Bruce were both adopted by his aunt's friend from the night before. Turns our, Erskine has several children, History Steve being one of them, and they rest of them join the table for lunch. 

 

Besides Natasha, Bruce and Steve, there's Wanda and Pietro - twins from Sokovia; Thor and Loki - oddly named brothers who Erskine had adopted - on a _whim,_ apparently _-_ during a trip to Norway; Tony - who was apparently a complete genius and stimulated Bucky with rapid fire Nerd Speak (Becca's words, not his.) That only leaves Sam, who Bucky actually does like, though he hides it with witty, antagonizing marks that Sam counters with gusto. 

 

It's the start of a beautiful friendship, he's sure.

 

Bucky has just about finished up his chicken sandwich when Steve shows up, leaning down to Natasha's ear and muttering something in the same quiet tone as during history. Her green eyes dart over to Bucky before she shifts her gaze, turning her head to the other Alpha as she replies. Her lips leave an impression of red on his cheek, which he quickly rubs away before he leaves altogether. 

 

Natasha stares at Bucky for the remaining fifteen minutes of lunch. 

 

After lunch is physics, and he's glad to see that Tony and Pietro are also in this class. They sit together, and Tony beckons a freshman to sit at their lab table with them. He introduces himself as Peter, and his mind rivals that of Tony's, though there are clearly some areas where one has more knowledge than the other. 

 

All in all, Bucky considers physics a success. 

 

His last class of the day is English, admittedly his favorite subject, with a young Omega teacher: Mr. Austerman. 

 

Austerman looks to be in his mid twenties, clearly fresh out of college, and he has kind eyes that remind Bucky of his father.

 

He waves Bucky to his desk almost instantly, "Bucky, right?" At the teen Omega's nod, he smiles gently. "I'm sorry they wouldn't let you into AP literature. . . I saw your transcripts, one of the office secretaries sent it over to me, and I tried my best to convince them but. . ." 

 

Bucky thinks it's more than a little backwards that an Omega can teach AP, but one can't take the class.

 

"There's only so much one guy can do," Bucky shrugs. "Thanks though, really. I appreciate the sentiment." 

 

Mr. Austerman spares a glance at the disinterested students who have showed up, the class only being about a quarter full as there are still has four minutes before the bell, and he leans over slightly, lowering his voice. "Just between us," he slips an index card into Bucky's palm, "I'll give you the AP work on the side, and you can swap it out with the general assignments. That is my personal email and cell number, you can use a non-school email to communicate with me." 

 

Bucky fights off tears of absolute joy, "yeah, yes, holy-. Thank you," his voice cracks just barely at the end, and Austerman claps him on the shoulder. 

 

"No problem, kid," the bell rings a moment later, "go ahead and take a seat." 

 

Bucky doesn't worry too much about the English lecture, and at the end of class, Austerman assures him that he will email his assignment later that evening. 

 

When he gets home for the day, it's only two in the afternoon, so he makes some popcorn and hot chocolate before settling in the livingroom. Becca had shot him a text sometime during his ride home saying that she is going to stay after to study, then go out with Sam, and that she'll be home late. Apparently Mondays are their chosen date nights. 

 

Brock video calls him through Snapchat about thirty minutes into the second Iron Man movie. His face is a little patchy, Alex has more than likely upset him, and Bucky frowns into the camera. 

 

"What the fuck did he do?" 

 

Brock sniffles, the sudden sound not quite startling Bucky. "I don't wanna talk about it yet. How was your first day?" 

 

Bucky props the phone up with his blanket so his friend can see him without Bucky having to hold the phone. He shrugs, "it was alright, I made a couple'a friends. Already in a few group projects. My history partner is. . . weird, I guess."

 

"Yeah?" Brock's voice is a little hoarse, but Bucky refrains from pushing for answers. "Weird how?" 

 

"I dunno," Bucky's gaze moves from the TV to the phone. "The air turned on during class, and he held his breath for pretty much the entirety of class, and then slammed a paper onto my desk with his number on it for the project. Then," he stresses the word, "at lunch, he, like, shadily whispered into his sister's ear and then booked it outta there. She stared at me for the rest of lunch, man. It was creepy as shit." 

 

"He's an Alpha?" Brock asks for clarification, and Bucky nods. "Maybe you smell good to him?" 

 

"Oh god," Bucky groans, "what if I smelled bad?" 

 

Bucky has to admit, the thought is embarrassing. As standoffish as Steve had appeared, he was very attractive. Golden blonde hair, enticing blue eyes. Steve is putting checks in boxes that Bucky didn't know he had. 

 

Naturally, he texts him after his and Brock's video chat is over.

 

**ME - 3:25 PM**

_hey. this is bucky._

**ME - 3:26 PM**

_from history. we're partners. . . you left your number for the project, i think?_

 

Steve doesn't reply until after Bucky has ditched Iron Man for the Criminal Minds marathon on Ion Television. It's been three episodes, and he's about halfway through another - though it's on a commercial break - when his phone pings. 

 

**STEVE - 7:34 PM**

_yeah, i did._

 

That's all he says. Bucky frowns, sends his inquiring response. 

 

**ME - 7:37 PM**

_okay, so. . . do you have any subject ideas? preferences? this is a pretty big project._

 

**STEVE - 7:40 PM**

_don't care. history is my strong suit, i'll be good with anything._

**ME - 7:41 PM**

_k. we're doing the 20s-the end of wwii then._

 

**STEVE - 7:45 PM**

_neat._

 

That's it. Steve appears to have no problem with such a large amount of history to cover, but he won't hear any complaints from Bucky. History happens to be one of his strong suits as well, and if the Alpha is to be believed, they'll ace this project. 

 

Peggy beats both Sharon and Becca home, but she doesn't spare much towards Bucky save for a motherly smile and the brush of her hand over his soft curls as he sleeps on the couch. Two hours later, just shy of midnight, Rebecca will arrive, and she'll wake him by plopping a piece of ice on his face. She'll even laugh quietly to herself as he trudges up the stairs, her shoulders causing her jacket to make a soft rustling sound in the otherwise quiet house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minor mention of becca implying she might become sick if bucky continues being a gross teenager. discussion of Omega's rights issues, omega discrimination.
> 
> i tried to make it clear but I'm pretty sure i failed: the school year is about two-three weeks post-winter break. probably around the last week of January 2015.
> 
> catch (cash) me (ouside) on tumblr @ hannahjs !


	3. brooklyn, starbucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finds the local Starbucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy december folks. i got a job and im applying to boston university even though it's the longest shot i'll ever take in my life.
> 
> ive had some sort of "flu-pneumonia-sorry we don't know what it is" thing for like two weeks and i have finals these next coupla days and ive missed school since last thursday lmao !

Bucky frowns over his overflowing spoonful of cereal at his sister. "Why didn't you tell me there's a Starbucks here?"

 

"It's my sisterly duty to make you miserable," she shrugs, sliding into a stool two seats down from him with her own bowl of cereal. "I thought you knew," she amends, "honestly, Bucky," a disbelieving sigh, "Sharon literally came home with Starbucks last night."

 

"I know! That's how I found out about it." Bucky flicks a dry Fruity Pebble at her, hitting her nose. "I'm disowning you." 

 

"I disowned you ages ago," Becca teases with a grin. 

 

Bucky hastily makes his way to the door after placing his bowl in the counter and calls, "whatever, _Rebecca_ ," over his shoulder. He narrowly misses whatever object she has thrown at him as he slams the door shut. He takes Peggy's car, she told him he could the night before, as long as he let her take the bike. 

 

He shows up to his first class of the day though it's technically his first hour since it's a B day, statistics with Ms. Munroe. Darcy and a strawberry blonde sit together at a four-seat table arrangement toward the middle of the room, and his brunette friend waves him over. 

 

"I wasn't sure about your order," he says, passing Darcy a caffè vanilla frappuccino, then takes a sip of his own java chip. He passes a third drink -- a venti pink drink -- to the strawberry blonde. "Pepper, right? I didn't know your order either, obviously, but Darce said I'd be sitting with her and a friend so. . ."

 

Pepper shakes her head, "it's fine, really," then sips her drink and hums happily. "This is actually the first time I've ever had a pink drink, I get the hype now." 

 

Bucky gives his new friend a look of complete disbelief. "You've never had a pink drink before? What else have you not had? As a Starbucks connoisseur, it's my duty to introduce you to the most iconic drinks."

 

Pepper, bless her soul, blinks once, then twice, then she turns to Darcy. "He's like a puppy," she smiles. "We have to keep him. Has he met Steve?" 

 

"Rogers?" Bucky interrupts, pausing for the first warning bell to ring. "We're history partners, but. . . I don't think he likes me? He basically put the entire decision of our era project onto me last night."

 

Darcy's head shoots up from where she had buried her nose into her book— _The Handmaid's Tale_ , for their English class—and squeaks through her next words. "He what? You what? What'd he say?" 

 

He shrugs helplessly, "just said 'don't care,'" he mimicks Steve's deep voice, "'history is my strong suit, you pick,' after like four hours of radio silence, and then when I told him the timeline i wanted to work with, he said 'neat.'"

 

The girls roll their eyes, both fondly and as a way of saying, _Bucky, you're so silly,_ he presumes, so he does what he does best. 

 

"Darce! You know that's not all," he whines, and they roll their eyes again. 

 

"Of course, darling, how could I forget?" The brunette fakes a posh accent, then turns to Pepper. "Yesterday, during A lunch, Bucky sat with the squad and I yesterday, but Steve and Nat were totally shady about it." 

 

"Shady how?" Pepper asks despite the final warning bell that signaled the start of class. 

 

Darcy lowered her voice slightly, "Steve showed up to the table a little late, and when he saw Buckster he said something to Nat and then she did her _Thing_ for the last couple minutes of lunch." 

 

"That _thing_ ," Bucky mumbles just as Ms. Munroe gives the group a short glance while she does attendance, "was staring at me for fifteen minutes while I tried to eat my food." 

 

His second B day class—third hour, really—is forensic science with Mrs. Danvers. The blonde Alpha woman introduces herself to him almost immediately and says she is an ex-cop, and that if he has any problems, school or law related, he should come see her. Then she gives him a card with her _police work number_ on it because "an officer's work is never done, Bucky." 

 

He goes to lunch a little spooked. 

 

Clint from history is the only one at the table when Bucky gets there with his cheap school french fries and a can of root beer. The Omega pauses, unsure if he wants to sit down with this guy, but then Clint takes note of his presence and nods at him. Bucky sits next to him.  

 

"Hey, man." He pops the tab of his soda and takes a quick drink. "How's it goin'?" 

 

Clint doesn't answer, and he blinks dumbly in the silence while the once again purple clad blond taps one thumb on his phone screen and uses his free hand to dig through his backpack. He pulls something out and holds it up to his ear. When he pulls his hand back, it's empty, but his hearing aid, Bucky hadn't even noticed he wasn't wearing it, is in place. 

 

"Did you say something?" Clint asks, "you're on my bad side." 

 

Bad side? Bucky frowns, affronted because he hasn't said two words to the guy before today. 

 

"By hearing standards, I mean," the sandy haired boy amends. "Got my aid in now, though" he says through a mouthful of his own lunch.

 

"Oh." Bucky is getting tired of blinking like an idiot. He stuffs a fry into his mouth, chews and swallows it. "I just asked how it's going."

 

Clint is actually pretty cool, Bucky has decided by the time everyone else shows up. He has an affinity for archery, and in general he has a good aim, and he's pretty funny. He even laughs at Bucky's _questionable humor_ , as Becca calls it. On top of all of this, he apologized for his brother's—because Clint is another one of Erskine's adopted teenagers, so that makes him Steve's sibling—behavior the day before.

 

They end up exchanging numbers.

 

After lunch is fifth hour: ballet. Bucky has always loved to dance, but ballet is one of his passions. He doesn't want to make a career out of it, no, but he enjoys spending some of his time dancing. He's even more excited when he spots Pepper at the barre.

 

His energy dwindles when, as he approaches her, he also spots Natasha on the other side of the room. Her green eyes meet his own icy blue ones and he holds his breath as he takes the remaining steps toward his strawberry blonde friend. 

 

Natasha smiles at him several times during class, but he still leaves feeling uneasy. 

 

Ballet was his last class because his seventh hour is an off-period, so he passes by Austerman's mailbox outside the classroom door to leave behind some examples of his previous AP English work. Then, he shoots his sister a text to remind her he's leaving, and he goes to the town's only diner.

 

"How can I help ya?" A young woman asks him as she peaks out from the back room to see Bucky standing by the door, awkward as a newborn foal. His first impression is that she has strange hair, brunette with a single stripe of platinum, but he quickly shrugs it off in his mind. 

 

He gestures vaguely behind him, "uh, the sign says you're looking to hire?" 

 

She nods, holding up a finger with a smile, then: "Logan!"

 

Her holler nearly startled the life out of him, and he has to refrain from clutching his chest to ensure his heart is still there. Seconds later, a gruff man enters the main diner area and gives him a once over. 

 

"You Peggy's grandson?" 

 

Bucky nods minutely. 

 

"You familiar with this sorta work?"

 

He nods again.

 

"You're hired," Logan states factually, and sparing a look at the girl from before, who is currently taking the order of a couple teens who clearly also have an off-period. "Can you start now?"

 

Bucky ends the day with several new friends, a new job, and a hole in his shoe.

**Author's Note:**

> my hc becca barnes will always be lyndsy fonseca.
> 
> bucky always ends up liking country music in my fics? 
> 
> this will likely be a slowish update, maybe once every two weeks unless im particularly creative that week, (yknow, bc i cant seem to stop starting wips?)


End file.
